Liesel's hair was increasingly becoming a point of contention between the two of us. She didn't want me to wash, brush or style it anymore and while I'm all for her taking command of her own grooming, she wasn't keeping up on it. Unfortunately, she also inherited the Wuehler cowlicks- one of which is on the back of her head where she can't see it. When she only did a quick brush, the back was still a mess and when I told her, she'd get frustrated and then I'd be annoyed and it was just a vicious cycle every morning.
Liesel floated the idea of getting her hair cut short and we agreed she could try a color as well. We waited until we were in Iowa City where it was cheaper than the Chicago suburbs and on our final day, we headed to the salon.
Apparently we arrived a little too early so we went to the park across the street until they were ready for her.
Their shocked and laughing faces when I let the teeter totter go makes me smile.
Finally she was up and Liesel showed her stylist (who had brightly colored hair herself) these two pictures for inspiration:
I'm really not all that sentimental when it comes to hair. Sure I've done lots of little girl hair but I didn't think Liesel getting her hair chopped and colored was a big deal. That is, until those long locks of blonde hair began to fall. Even looking back on it, I can't quite explain why I was so overcome with emotion but I straight up started bawling right there in the salon. Another stylist clocked it and smiled at me. Brigitta took my hand and said, "You can still braid my hair, Mom." Somehow these sentiments made it worse and I just cried and cried.
It felt like an iron gate had slammed shut on Liesel's childhood- and I was still behind that gate while she forged on. It wasn't just that I wouldn't be doing her hair anymore, it's that things with Liesel are no longer crystal clear. When she was a baby I knew 99% of the time what she needed. Now I'm not so sure and I feel like I'm shooting from the hip more often than not. She walked in looking like a girl and she walked out looking like a woman.
I've never wished for my girls to stay little, truly. I love watching them grow and try new things. Brent and I often talk about what we will do when the kids leave home. We dream about it! But there was something here that was... I dunno... involuntary. Like no one asked me, no one checked with me. The changing of the guard was sudden and all at once. Aurgh, does this even make sense? Especially since Liesel and I planned this together? It felt like I agreed to let her ride her bike to a friend's house and she sped off in a Lamborghini while I stupidly stood there saying, "Wait, what?" I somehow wasn't prepared and man those emotions hit me hard. I've always said there is no reason to cry over a haircut unless you are losing it to cancer and yet I was straight up bawling in a salon. I decided to take Liesel's sisters to lunch since the dying portion would take a while. I didn't think she'd seen my and I didn't want to embarrass her either.
Before:
After:
Even in the pictures you can see how much brighter she is, how happy she is. This haircut and color suite her to a T. She's stunning. She looks so chic and hip, so grown up and I dunno, socially conscious. You have to have some guts to have a hairstyle like that. Now she could show a little bit on the outside how she feels on the inside. Liesel couldn't take her eyes off of her own reflection and she kept shaking her head and looking at it from all angles. She gushed to her stylist how much she loved it. As we headed home she took selfies.
And somehow I felt like I'd lost her with one simple haircut. Weird.
Meanwhile Gita played with filters and asked if she could get her hair colored like this:
Absolutely not Gita- mama's heart can only take so much!
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